


When the Sun Sets, We're Both the Same

by wordsofivory



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, And all sorts of other things, Cruelty, Fate Swap, M/M, Multi, Revenge, The Astrals are dicks, Violence, War, Yeah this isn't going to be a pleasant fic, no really, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsofivory/pseuds/wordsofivory
Summary: What if the first King of Light was Noctis instead of Ardyn? Would their fates differ? Or would the Astrals continue with their plan to cure the Starscourge by sacrificing two good - albeit, one just a BIT misguided - men?Fate!Swap AU between Noctis and Ardyn inspired byDoomherald





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's been awhile since I've written anything that wasn't just RP between friends, so I apologize for any errors or anything that might seem a bit off. I just couldn't help myself and had to write this, since it's been rolling around in my brain for weeks. While I have been roleplaying it on the side, this story has just managed to well up in me to the point that I finally got to writing an actual fic for the first time in years. 
> 
> Inspired by [this lovely artwork](https://doomherald.tumblr.com/post/155183670121/agestoryeverything-swap-noct-is-ardyns) of Doomherald's that pushed me down this path of absolutely needing more of it. 
> 
> Also, yes, Noctis in this has a ruined castle he and his entourage live in. Trust me, it'll be explained. Also, yes, taking a lot of liberties with things, but it's all educated guesses since I've scoured over every piece of lore in FFXV that I could find/research. Not all of it is correct and I've had to bend some things to make this work, but hopefully, it'll make for a good story in the end.

2000 years is a long time for anyone. Humans were not meant to live this long, humans were gifted with short lives to enjoy and cherish with their friends and loved ones. Anything longer becomes...cruel. One can lose appreciation for the simplest of things, knowing they will still be there to see it again. Or perhaps, knowing they will lose said thing, because they will always outlive it. 

Noctis Lucis Caelum knew he was a broken man. Since this fate had been bestowed upon him so many years ago, he had begun to lose his love for the world. Everything had begun to fade to shades of grey - there was nothing new that he could appreciate, for he would always outlive such things. He had seen the rise and fall of empires, the creation and destruction of technology, the ever lasting ebb and flow of humanity as it came and went, generation by generation. Nothing changed. History always repeated itself. 

Noctis sat quietly on his throne, staring at nothing in particular as he listened to the deafening silence around him. This used to be home, bustling with noise and servants at any time of the day. He could remember it like it was yesterday...servants running to and fro to help with their usual guests, advisers by his side, talking over the latest spread of the starscourge and how best to counter it. Even children of his servants would be running around, playing their silly games as best they could before their parents would come in and shoo them away, telling them not to disturb the king. It was...peaceful. There were no wars, no territory issues...it was peace of the finest degree. 

But jealousy and a hatred as dark as the starscourge itself began to manifest in Izunia, a king not yet chosen by the crystal. They had grown up together, yet as Noctis had become more and more invested in healing people of their sicknesses, Izunia had grown...distant and cold. He had heard of him speaking behind his back to other royalty, how he tried to spread unjust rumors - everything from him actually causing the infection, to him killing people for experiments, to him just taking the throne despite the Astrals never speaking to him. Everyone knew these to be untrue and never paid them any heed. Even Noctis was as kind to Izunia as he could be, knowing the man was doing everything possible to try and hurt him. Yet at the directions of the Six themselves, he continued to heal the starscourge. 

He didn’t know how else to heal people. It’s not like the Oracle gave lessons on how to heal, and even then, many people could not wield a magic to do such a thing. And when the Oracle had passed, he had no choice but to take up the healing that the Oracle had done - he needed to stop the scourge before it spread further across the kingdom. If he could keep it at bay, when he finally ascended to become the King of Light, the casualties would be far less than what it would be without a healer. Noctis had done what he thought was right - he used his magic and sacrificed his own well being to heal his people. 

Yet it hadn’t been enough. Or perhaps it had been too much. He still wasn’t entirely sure what it had been in the long run. Either way, Bahamut had judged him unworthy, despite all that he had done. He had called him unworthy, filthy, tainted with a black heart - he would never ascend, he would never be the King of Light, he would not save this world from the darkness. He would become the Ruiner of worlds, the Usurper, the Accursed...his role had been cast.

Despair had overwhelmed him. What was he to do if he couldn’t help his people from the starscourge as promised? He could continuing healing, yes, but they would lose faith in him, if not the Six, for not stopping the suffering. For not sacrificing himself, for being a coward. The pain of such a fate had blinded him from Izunia’s jealousy and what plans he was about to put into action. 

It wasn’t raining that day, though the skies had been grey and overcast, as if the gods knew what was about to happen. Perhaps a small sign of lamentation for his fate, or perhaps a sign they knew of the darkness they had spurned in Izunia’s heart was about to overflow. Regardless, the day itself had been grim. Noctis had barely noticed it at first, for sleep had eluded him for most of the night. The despair and fear of the fate bestowed upon him had him wandering the halls, trying to think of any way to remedy this. To help his people. His kingdom. 

“You are up and about far earlier than normal, your highness,” Izunia’s voice cut through his thoughts, as sharp as a bell on a crisp morning. Noctis could feel the dread building up inside of him - he didn’t know why he felt so uneasy today. Perhaps it was the weather, perhaps it was his fate. Either way, the mere thought of Izunia made his stomach turn. But he still gave him a smile, albeit a weary one from the lack of sleep, but a smile nonetheless to his family. 

“Good morning, Izunia. I hope the night has been kinder to you than it has been to myself. I thought a walk might help clear my mind and hopefully, allow me some rest,” Noctis explained, letting him stand by his side before he began to walk once more. 

“What troubles could keep our king of light from the sweet release of sleep?” Izunia kept pace with Noctis, a worry across his face. Noctis knew it was all fake, just a way of disarming him, of trying to make him comfortable to speak secrets, to speak anything that Izunia could use against him. Underneath that kind smile and white robes was nothing more than a cold darkness waiting to strike.

“I simply worry about the kingdom. What will become of it after I am gone? Have I done enough to please the people? To help everyone? To ease the suffering of this world…” He knows he hasn’t, he hasn’t done near enough to suffice for the pain the world was suffering through. And with the Astrals denying him the means to Ascend and banish the darkness…

“I am sure you have done enough to please the Astrals, my king. After all, you’ve put up with such horrible things over the past few years. The outbreaks of Starscourge, the death of the Oracle, and those vicious rumors; if you could manage through that, I am sure the Astrals will let you ascend. There’s no reason for them not to accept you, is there not?” The very way Izunia spoke of these things made his skin crawl, as if they were nothing but small annoyances to him. Izunia did not understand just how each and every one of those events were devastating, how such things cause a suffering that rippled out and could cause even more tragic events. Deep down, he could only hope he would never be chosen as king, but knowing that the astrals had already abandoned him...it was his greatest fear that could come true.

Noctis kept silent as they continued to walk, heading towards one of the outer balconies that overlooked the kingdom. “We cannot assume to know the plans of our gods. For all we know, maybe they wish to have us suffer from the plague for reasons beyond our understanding. Or perhaps they feel that I would be put to better use on this plane than beyond. We will not know until they decide to speak with us once more.” 

If only he had known then what his words had inspired that darkness inside Izunia, he would have never said a thing. Izunia had thanked him for his wisdom before making small talk for the rest of his visit. Noctis hadn’t noticed when he left, either, his thoughts too in a jumble to keep track of what was going on around him. Gods, he wished he had been more aware. He could have stopped all this pain and suffering. 

It was mid-afternoon when it started. Noctis had been in his study, alternating between brief moments of sleep plagued with nightmares to his grim reality that he was still coming to terms with. He was knocked out of both dazes when his shield came rushing in, begging him to follow him to safety. There wasn’t much time to argue, as he was pulled out of his room to the sound of screams. The smell of blood followed quickly thereafter, and it took everything from his Shield to keep him from running towards the chaos, wanting to stop whatever was happening. 

“King Noctis. We need to leave now. The longer you stay, the further you put yourself and your people in danger. Please, I am begging you.”

“What is going on, Amicitia? Why are we running?” 

His Shield shook his head, “Izunia’s forces are overrunning the castle. They’re slaughtering anyone who will not swear fealty to him. We need to evacuate you as soon as possible. The Glaive will do what they can to stave off his army.” 

“His army? What army? Since when did he have an army?” Noctis is becoming more confused the more information he receives, shaking his head as he’s practically pulled along. “I do not understand.”

“If we escape now, we will live to find out. But any moment longer and we will not stand a chance. Please. Let us take our leave.” He doesn’t wait for his answer, grabbing the King by his wrist and pulling him along. They run through all sorts of hallways, to the point that Noctis in his daze almost loses track of where they are. But he finds himself orienting after a few more rushed corners - they’re heading out towards the gardens. It was the easiest way to flee into the nearby wilderness, it would make sense to go that route. 

Noct’s mind was racing - there was so many questions that are going unanswered in the short amount of time he’s had. Where was the Glaive? How did Izunia acquire an army? Why was this happening? Was this also the gods will? Why were they being so cruel? Was he that wrong in the way he had tried to help people? 

A sudden jolt knocked him out of his thoughts - his Shield had stopped them dead in their tracks. The hallway out to the gardens was blocked by the bodies of his servants, strewn about in puddles of blood. Noctis could barely contain the gasp at the sight, his heart caught in his throat from the very sight. This was...monstrous. 

“Noctis Lucis Caelum...how could you?” 

He felt the cold steel of a sword hit the back of his neck, and then...darkness overwhelmed him. It felt like he was floating for a very long time, as if he was back in front of the Astrals once more, being judged for being unclean. That booming voice telling him he was wrong, he would become the Accursed, the Fallen King, the plaguebringer. But there was another sound slowly wrapping around that voice, like the sound of waves as they come closer to the shore. And it grew louder and louder, a cacophony of confusion and despair, with a hint of anger underlying it all. 

Then, there was light, an almost blinding light, as Noctis came to, his head pounding with the noise only exacerbating the pain. He groaned as he tried to gain his bearings, his limbs slowly coming out of their numbness as he began to lift himself from the ground he was sprawled upon.

“And so the monster awakes,” jeered Izunia, the crowd growing quiet upon his observation. Noct slowly focuses on the scene around him - he was in front of the castle, left on the steps while the people gathered below. He could recognize their faces, so many people he had cured of the starscourge before, so many people who believed in him being the King of Light. Slowly, he tried to get to his feet, but a rough kick to the stomach made sure he stayed on the ground, keeping him from doing much of anything. 

“I-Izunia...why?” Noctis dared to look up at the envious man, who sneered down upon him. He was already wearing the crown, as if had been bestowed upon him already. 

“Why did you murder your people, Noctis? Why would you resort to such brutality and cruelty upon your people? All because the Astrals rejected you?” Izunia had a sword in his hand as he slowly descended upon Noctis, treating him as if he was the dangerous one. Noctis shook his head, trying to get to his bearings and stand again. 

“I did nothing of the sort. It was you who attacked us. You who killed my servants, my friends. How could you do such a horrible thing?” Another kick to his stomach knocked him down a few more stairs, his body aching something terrible by the time he stopped. There was the sound of footsteps and the sound of metal in turn. The footsteps receded quickly, leaving Noctis to suffer whatever fate Izunia had in store for him.

“People of Insomnia, no, people of Lucis! I stand before you today a humble man of the Lucis Caelum line. I wish to bring to you the truth of the man you call King.” 

A murmur fell over the crowd, an obvious confusion at those words. Noctis could feel the hatred and envy pouring from Izunia, trying to suppress him and keep him down. But he still struggled, trying to get up, trying to face whatever it was that Izunia was going to accuse him of. Looking up to him, he could practically see the red in his eyes, the madness that had overtaken the envious man, the madness that had driven him to murder so many innocents just so he could have the crown for himself.

“The man before you is a fraud! He claims to have been chosen by the Astrals themselves, but the Six have abandoned him! For all we know, they may have never spoken to him at all! He has deluded all of you into thinking he’s a healer, that he is a mouthpiece for the gods when he is nothing more than a betrayer of trust like the Infernian!” Izunia looked out over the crowd, gauging the reactions of the people gathered. Many seemed concerned, as this accusation was truly one steeped deeply in madness. 

“What would I gain from lying, Izunia? I have done nothing but sacrificed myself for my people, much like any good king would,” Noctis quietly replied, keeping his gaze steady on him. 

“You have tricked these people into believing you are the King of Light. You are DELUSIONAL. You are a monster! I figured you out and you killed everyone inside, did you not? You went on a MURDER spree, all because you thought I told your little secret. Well Noctis, you cannot murder your entire country, can you? Come clean before your people, come clean before the gods you lied about speaking for!”

“I have done nothing of the sort. Why do you have an army?” 

“To protect these people from you and your madness!” There was a sword suddenly at his throat, making Noctis go still. But his night blue eyes never left Izunia, weary and frustrated, but nowhere near the hatred that Izunia’s eyes bore towards him. 

“Izunia. Please. You are wrong. Stop this madness before more people end up getting hurt…”

“You have hurt so many in your time as king, Noctis. You poisoned the Oracle so you could take her stead, so you could be the one the people fell in love with for healing all their sicknesses. You gained the trust of all these people, made them believe you were the King of Light, and when I learned your secret, you decided death was the only way to free yourself of your guilt!” 

Noctis felt his heart sink - Izunia was putting all his crimes on his shoulders. Make it seem as if the king has gone mad and push the blame to him, cover his tracks for every horrible thing he had done, knowing that no one would ever think twice about a king gone mad. He shook his head, trying to get to his feet once more. 

“I have done nothing of the sort! I am innocent of all your charges! I would never do suc-”

He never had the chance to finish. Izunia brought his sword down upon him, barely giving him the chance to try and turn to avoid the blade. It cleaved from his shoulder and across his spine, cutting him deep enough that he could feel the life pouring out from him. His body hit the stairs hard, and the pain of a cracked bone shooting through him. Gods how it hurt, how that cold open air against his exposed bones and nerves made it sting beyond belief. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to reach out and crawl away, though he knew he would get nowhere. The icy sword was brought down upon him again and again and again, making him cry out in the pain he was suffering. 

“Beg for forgiveness, you wretch! You monster!” 

But Noctis would never beg for something he did not do. And for that, he would meet his end at Izunia’s sword, bloodied and shamed for false crimes in front of his people. The edges of his vision grew dark, starting to overwhelm all his senses. Izunia’s cries faded into nothingness, colors bled until there was nothing but grey, and the cold began to encompass all of him. This was what dying was like, this is what the king of light must suffer, the pain of life leaving this plane entirely. A king must sacrifice all for his kingdom.

_“Oh fallen king, this is not your fate.”_

A string of pain suddenly went through him, as if life was surging forth through his limbs once more. The cold was melting away for an almost burning sensation, crawling along from the ends of his limbs and upwards. He could hear the sounds of the people around him, an infinite echo of weeping growing louder as he came to. But the weeping began to change into cries, a murmur growing over the crowd. Vision was slowly coming back to him, and yet, everything was still black. A creeping black that was slowly pulling from his eyes, as if it was trying to shield him from the truth. 

“You...you are a monster.” 

Izunia’s words pierced through his daze, waking him up fully. His body hurt worse than before, but it was starting to lessen the more he moved. But how could he move? He should be dead, should he not? Slowly, he brought his hands up, and that’s when he saw it. Those familiar black veins crawling up his arms, the darkness oozing from his skin. It was the scourge - he was infected.

“N-no. This isn’t...what I meant.”

“You’re a daemon. You’re the one spreading the scourge, aren’t you? You lied about the Astrals and being the King of Light. You are a monster like the Infernian!” 

Noctis looked back to Izunia, fear across his face, “No! That was never the case! I healed people, I did my best to please the Astrals! I...I do not understand this punishment!”

He watched the sword come down this time, slicing him clean across the chest. The spray of blood and that black infection spread out from the wound as he fell backwards, crashing against the steps in a heap. But the pain began to vanish almost as quickly as it had happened, and this time, he could feel that infection weaving across his wound, healing it back as if the attack had never happened. His body jolted again, as if restarting him once more in this realm of existence. Noctis slowly began to sit up, his eyes scanning across the people before him. Fear and horror were painted across their faces, backing away from him as if looking at him alone would infect them as well. His heart sank in his chest and he could feel the tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. So this is what the Astrals meant to punish him for failure…

“This is the monster that has been leading us! He has been trying to destroy this kingdom! We must purge this land of him and his kind if we are to stop the spread of the starscourge!” 

The cheers of the people behind him grew loud and soon grew into a riotous noise around him. Noctis looked up to Izunia, whose smile was wicked and cruel. He had won, he would become king and rule the land like he so desired. And all of this would fall on Noct’s shoulders - the deaths of his people, both from Izunia’s madness and from the starscourge that he had attempted to impede. Tears streamed down his face as Izunia’s men grabbed him, sticking him through with their swords, as if to stop him from trying anything. But even that was overkill - he was a broken man, and there would be no attempt to fight back from him. This was his end - the end of the King of Light, and the beginning of something much, much darker - the beginning of the Accursed.


	2. Conversations with Gods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit more difficult to write than some of the others coming up, if only because it really is hard to understand why the Astrals are such douchebags. 
> 
> Going to try and keep to a bi-weekly chapter update depending on various life circumstances. Will also be updating with some other inspirations for certain parts as we get to it, whether it's beautiful fanart or some rather fitting music. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The next few days were a blur, from what he could remember. Izunia had imprisoned him and chained him up like a monster underground, leaving his men to do as they wished to him. There had been pain, as they drove their weapons into him, as if testing out if he truly could not die. Noctis’s begs and pleads for mercy had fallen upon deaf ears and only brought harsher punishment upon him. It did not take long for him to stop and simply accept the pain they wished to bring upon him. This cruelty would be seen amongst the people in time, they would understand the true monster they had chosen over him. 

When he saw Izunia next, he was grinning and speaking in riddles. Something about a place across the sea that he and the Astrals saw as fitting for him. Time was passing at a pace that did not make sense to him - his next memories were of torture again, and then beyond that, reading to some of the children he had healed long ago. Yet he could see Bahamut in these visions, standing there, judging him for his transgressions. He wanted to shout in anger, wanted to scream about Izunia’s crimes, to beg for forgiveness...but the words never reached his throat. The Astrals had abandoned him for the envious king - he was wrong in what he had done, he would be punished.

He tasted sand and saltwater the next time he was conscious, groaning as he started to come to. The guards were quick to grab him, dragging him up the shore to the large rock ahead of him. Noctis glanced around, trying to figure out where he was. Despite it being a large rock by the sea, there was a door and notches all around the edges of it, and large swords beyond human build pierced the ground around them. 

“...and this is where you will spend eternity, Noctis, until the True King sees fit to end your life of misery,” Izunia explained with a smile, walking up to the doorway and examining the inside. “Just enough room for you to ponder your crimes. The Astrals did well in creating this place for you. It is a fitting prison for a monster.” 

Of course the Astrals had a hand in this. They wanted to drag him down as far as possible, didn’t they? He chuckled, lowering his head as they began to pull him to his new prison. This was his fate. For all the good he had done in the world, and he was abandoned and left to rot in the middle of nowhere, branded a monster by the very people he had tried to protect. 

Izunia grabbed him by his chin, pulling his head up to meet his eyes, “I will make sure your name is wiped from history for your transgressions, fallen king. No one will remember you soon enough. I am sure the True King will make you pay for all that you have done to this world.” 

Noctis smiled, a cruel smile for all those words that Izunia spewed at him. “Then I will make sure that everyone knows just what a monster you were, Izunia. Just know - you will never be as loved as I once was. That will forever be your failing. You may have labeled me a monster, but at least I do not see one every time I look in the mirror.”

The look across Izunia’s face was one he would cherish forever. It was a mix of knowing anger and hatred, that Noctis’s words were truth. Reaching up for his hand, Izunia pulled the Ring of the Lucii from his finger, holding it up to look at. “And to think, this useless thing was the only thing giving you any sort of power over us.” 

He didn’t say anything, just staring up at Izunia. So the Astrals had not told him of the power of the ring...interesting. To use Izunia to tear him down and make him the Accused, but not bestow the knowledge of the King of Lucis upon him was an odd decision. It was satisfying, however, to know that Izunia was being toyed with, yet disheartening at the games the Astrals were playing with their lives. 

Noctis was tossed in without much regard for his well being, hitting the stone hard. As he slowly sat up, a stone was moved across the doorway, blocking his only way out. The sounds of scraping metal followed soon afterwards, as the swords were slowly pushed into the rock, narrowing what little room he had already. From what he could tell, the swords covered what few escapes he could use, blocking everything but a small window facing away from the sea, barely large enough to fit his arms, and high enough to make it an impossible climb. 

Quietly, he crawled into the corner by the window, listening to the voices, straining his hearing as they started to fade as they slowly left the prison. He could feel his resolve starting to wane, knowing that any other human interaction would not happen for a very, very long time. The sounds of the waves and sea echoed from that tiny window, soft and barely intruding, yet loud enough that there wasn’t complete silence. It was soothing after so many days of pain and suffering, easing away rough edges of his nerves, starting to let him relax and even recover. His stomach shook, his hands starting to tremble as he curled in on himself, letting what little resolve he had left release and begin to break down. Tears began to stream down his face as he sobbed into his clothing, staining the already dirtied and bloodied clothes with those black tears of the scourge. A King did not show weakness in front of anyone, but a King...or a former King, while alone, could show only himself the emotions he could not burden anyone else with. 

He cried. He cried and he sobbed and he mourned the loss of his life. Everything was wrong, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Noctis had accepted his fate so long ago, that he would be sacrificed for the good of all. And now here he was, trapped for only the Gods knew how long. Izunia had been consumed by the darkness in his heart, ending lives upon lives all for a title that he craved. The starscourge would go unchecked, it would spread far beyond their kingdom...and he could do nothing. He could do nothing but sit here, lamenting his fate, waiting for the end. 

It took days to even begin to recover from his despair. His body ached as he slowly began to move again, his bones creaking and popping as he struggled to stand. Using the wall as a guide, he slowly began to move about his cell, trying to learn more about it. Where he was now seemed to be the only real ‘living space’ if it could be called that. Off to either side seemed to be small areas to take care of himself, with what seemed to be some sort of eternal fountain - perhaps made by Leviathan, he thought - for him to drink from. The other was an area with another spring of water with enough room to wash himself in, which he immediately took advantage off. Somehow, the water was warm, the smallest bit of comfort in this situation. Scrubbing all the dirt and blood off felt like it took forever, Noctis was almost sure he lost an entire layer of skin in trying to remove all the grime from himself. All his wounds had healed, an effect of the infection inside of him, he assumed. Not even a scar he could see, at least. 

As he stepped out, he found his clothes to be cleaned in a folded pile nearby, nowhere near where he had left them. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped over towards them, yet a hand was placed on them instead, stopping him in his tracks. Looking up, a young woman stood before him, her black hair cut cleanly, formal clothing adoring her, and that sad but mysterious smile as she met his eyes with her own glacial blue ones. 

“Shiva…” It was almost shock in his voice when he said her name rather than her proper title. Yet something within him could not bring him to, an anger, a spite even, welling up within him. Still, it did not stop him from taking those clean and mended clothes, starting to cover himself proper. And she stood there, waiting, watching, as if trying to figure out the perfect moment to speak. The Glacian had been the closest to humans compared to the other Astrals, and if anything, knew best how to interact with them. Still, speaking with one of them nude was not exactly what he was fond of, and he dressed quickly, before trying to move back into his new ‘living’ area. 

“What brings you to my humble abode?”

_"Oh Fallen King, it brings me such sorrow to see you like this.”_

Noctis scoffed at his new title, keeping his back to her, “Does it truly? I am starting to wonder if any of you truly cared.” 

_“We would not have done this if we did not care.”_

“...why?” His voice was cold, perhaps even cold enough for her to feel the chill. That anger within him welled up again, wanting to consume all of him and let his rage out, but he pushed it back down, clenching his fists as he waited for his answer. 

_“Because...that is how it had to happen, Noctis. How we needed it to happen.”_

For a long moment, Noctis doesn’t understand how to respond. His gaze is empty, even as he looks up to that meager window to the outside world he had been given. A world he would not ever get to see again, if their plans went as they wished. 

“So, I was set up for failure the entire time?”

_“If that is how you wish to see it…”_

“How else should I be seeing this situation, Shiva?! I was left to heal in the Oracle’s absence, I was given the means to do so by the Gods. And yet, I was rejected for healing them incorrectly? That even though I took the Scourge from so many people - that because I took it into my body unknowingly - even though I was to be sacrificed to purify the Scourge, that I was wrong? That you would conspire with Izunia to end so many lives to make it seem like I am the monster, that you would feed his madness that will only end in more suffering for my people…”

_“Izunia will be handled as he needs to be. His fate is not yours to be concerned with. You are still to be used to purify this world, Noctis. But not as the King of Light.”_

Noctis went silent, shutting his eyes as he thought her words over. He would be used to purify, simply not as the King of Light. And slowly, he began to laugh, even as the tears began to stream down his face once more. 

“...so you mean to make me the villain of your story?”

_“The Starscourge is not an easy thing to purify from your world. It is a death curse meant to end the lives of gods and yet, it spreads upon your lands. We are unable to purify it ourselves, an alternative method is a ritualistic means of humanity performing a cleansing rite.”_

Noctis paused, the words starting to make more sense, “And one must harbor it while another purifies. A physical metaphor for what must be done, correct?” 

_“...correct.”_

Oh, his life had been a lie. He hadn’t been chosen for anything so great after all, it was a curse in disguise. They knew they were going to make him fall, that despite him being a faithful, good man, they would turn him into their monster for their prophecy. And the people that he had given hope to would fall into despair, as the Scourge would continue to ravage this land for years until the True King was born. 

Noctis didn’t know why he was crying, there was nothing left to lament. He was the villain of this story now, he was never meant to be a hero...yet tears still continued to stream as he turned back to face her, that black scourge staining his face. But there was anger in his eyes once they settle back on her, as the fallen king starts to move towards her. 

“Fine. You wish to make a monster out of me, then you will have one. I will come for you and yours, Shiva. I will make you all suffer for what you’ve done to the people of this world, for what you’ve done to me.” 

She stepped back, almost afraid for a moment before she steeled herself, those eyes losing what little warmth and care she had for him. It was astounding to see how quick she abandoned all her concern, and it made Noctis think that, perhaps it had been a ruse all along. Just a role she was playing to push him along.

_“You will do no such thing. That is not what we wish of you.”_

Noctis laughed, shaking his head as he came closer, “I care not what you wish for anymore. I will not be bound by the rules of the Astrals, I will do as I wish. I will bring this Scourge to you and end your interference in this world once and for a-”

She reached out and touched him before he could finish, a bitter cold spreading through his body faster than he could try to stop it. He could feel the frost crawl upon his skin, the ice spreading into his limbs and freezing his bones down to the marrow. His nerves began to go numb, and it did not take long for his entire body to lose all feeling - there was nothing but the coldness of the Glacian. Shiva glared as she watched him become an icicle before her, slowly reaching out to shatter him. Noctis could feel each piece of him fade into nothingness across the stone floor, and the darkness consume him…

And then he was whole once more, standing in front of her as if it had never happened. Noctis looked down to himself and back to her, and for a moment, she almost looked as shocked as he did. But it faded back into that empty stare of hers, the default of a god not knowing true human emotion. 

_“You did not perish. How terrible.”_

“For who? You? You made me into this immortal monster, you set the terms of my death, and it is not for a very long time,” Noctis smirks as he steps closer to her, fire in his eyes, “And I will set the terms of yours soon enough.” 

Shiva stared up at him for a long moment before she smiled, reaching out to pet his cheek. Noctis pulled back, narrowing his eyes - he would not fall for that again. _“I am glad I got to see you again, fallen king. While I am truly sorry for your fate, I hope that you will soon see reason in our actions.”_

With a sadness in her eyes - which Noct could only question whether she truly felt sadness or if it was a simple mimicry - she blew him a kiss, a small cloud of frost blowing his way. The air began to thicken, like a fog starting to roll in on a winter evening. A chill went through Noctis, though he did his best not to react. Slowly, snow began to fall, the wind picking up in the small rock of a prison, until a blizzard filled the room, encircling the both of them. Yet all Noctis could do was stand there and watch, he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him cower in her coldness. The snow wrapped itself around her, almost like a blanket trying to keep her warm from the blizzard surrounding them. It was almost blinding, the wall of white before him, before it burst and with it, the storm around them. Or, more correctly, around him. Snow fell gently in his prison, and he was alone once more, left to the sound of the ocean and his own thoughts. 

Noctis would be left alone to his thoughts for over three hundred years before he would hear another voice besides his own.

At first he counted the days, and once they grew too numerous, he tried counting by weeks. Eventually, he found simply marking the year was the easiest way to keep track, as there seemed to be no end in sight to his prison sentence. He had stopped aging rather quickly once he had been thrown in, an immortality bestowed upon him for his crimes - or perhaps, because of his crimes. A curse, either way. Death would not come for him normally, he would never be able to pass through the gates, not without the ‘True King’ arriving and making sure he was put down like some...animal. 

And as these thoughts circulated, anger began to brew deep within him, a spite and hatred that was black and rolling and willing to consume everything in it’s flames. Noctis did his best to ignore it, to push it back deep down within him. Hate would not get him anywhere, it would only make him as despicable as Izunia had been. But then there was that tiny voice in the back of his mind - would it truly make him like Izunia to bear this anger? This anger at being lied to? He deserved this anger, it was rightfully his, and he deserved retribution for the suffering he had been through. Shouldn’t he be the bigger person? Just accept his fate of becoming the sacrificial lamb, accept what they had done to him - how they had dirtied his name, how they had destroyed any legacy he had left, how they made him appear to be the monster through the hands of a jealous king. Because truly, who was he to stand against the might of the Astrals?

_“You deserve your revenge, oh king of light. Look what they did to you…”_

The voice was warm and enticing, much like a summer breeze blowing through Insomnia. Noctis wanted to fall into the lull of it, let it comfort him and distract him from this cold, isolated rock on the sea. It hummed like the cicadas of summer, trying to pull him under, make him comfortable with what was happening. But there’s something else at the forefront of his mind that starts to take precedence - who was this speaker? 

Noctis shifted in the corner he was sitting in, resting his head back against the cool stone, “I do not believe that is my title to bear any longer.” His voice was odd in his throat, he could feel the vocal cords straining at the lack of use. 

_“You should take it back, make it yours once more. I can help you, we could show them that you are the True King, that they made a mistake in trying to make you a sacrificial lamb.”_

He slightly smiled to himself, “A fool’s errand, my friend. How could a fallen king and the Infernian himself change their minds?” 

_“How could we not? They know they have wronged both of us. They have ruined much of our lives even though we only strove to do the right thing. The Astrals are tyrants of this world, Noctis Lucis Caelum. It is only right that we stand up against them and fix what they have broken.”_

Noctis chuckled, shutting his eyes as he listens to the Infernian speak so passionately about his anger, his hatred. “Do you truly think that the Accursed and the Infernian - a prisoner and exile - could do anything against them?”

_“I would not be here if I did not think it a possibility. Either we take action and attempt to change the fates bestowed upon us, or we simply await our ends.”_

While he did not wish to admit it, Ifrit did have a point. He did not wish to sit and rot here until the True King decided to grace the land with his presence. But at the same time, what was left for him out there? He was the Accursed, he was infected with something sinister that threatened anyone he would ever come in contact with. Was he willing to risk spreading the same infection that he had worked so hard to eradicate? 

_“What do you say, King Noctis? Will you join me in breaking these chains around us?”_

Noctis stayed quiet, staring out that unreachable window of his prison. There was so much still out there, so much more to do...perhaps they could stop the Astrals. That rolling anger inside him was pushing against his rib cage, desiring freedom and so much more. He could obtain his revenge on them for what they had done to him, to his people, and even to this world. 

“Leave me to think on it.”

_“You know what your answer is going to be. Why wait?”_

“I wish to think on it. Simple as that. I will have an answer for you soon enough.”

_“Why do you de-”_

“I will **not** repeat myself. Leave me to my thoughts before I refuse your pact. I will let you know in due time,” Noctis’ tone was dangerous, that rolling anger a fire in his chest as he spoke. The Infernian went silent for a long moment before he spoke once more.

_“As you wish, oh fallen king.”_

It went quiet, only the sound of the rolling waves echoing through the prison. All of this was...truly too good to be true. Someone who understood what he had been through, who knew what it was like to have the Astrals lie to them, to strike them down when they were only trying to help. But even then, was this not all part of their plan? Was this their entertainment? To see a good man fall, to see him align with the bearer of hellfire, the one who had brought the starscourge upon humanity, who hated humanity and would rather see the end of it than save it. Even if he did ally himself and was set free, what was his goal? Stop the Astrals? Cure the starscourge despite its repercussions? Try to stop the prophecy? Try to stop the True King from ending his life? 

Noctis just wished he could go back to helping people, to healing and removing the starscourge from the lands. Yet, the people had been so easily turned against him, had abandoned and left him for Izunia to torture and punish. Even after all the good he had done for them, everything he had sacrificed for the good of his people. Maybe this had been a test, not for him but for the people of this world. If they could turn so easily against someone who had done so much for them, why did they deserve to be saved? 

No, no, no, he shouldn’t be thinking that. It was wrong. People were inherently good...right?

 

...twenty five years later, Noctis stood outside the prison he had been condemned to for almost three hundred and thirty years. A cold breeze blew through his coats, trying to chill him to the bone, much like she had done all those years ago. But a fire had been stoked within him, and the Infernian’s blaze heated his blood, keeping him safe from winter’s grasp. Their pact had been made, and Noctis had been set free, free to return to the civilization that had abandoned him so long ago. His goals had been set and aligned with the Infernian’s. Together, they would work towards unraveling what the Astrals had set in motion...whether it meant the end for humanity or not.


End file.
